


anyone who tells you they were born good is lying

by ofthesun



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda, Historical RPF
Genre: Admiration, Allegory, Canon Era, Fire, M/M, Memories, Symbolism, War, the author is projecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 23:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11473683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofthesun/pseuds/ofthesun
Summary: When Alexander first met John, there was a fire in his eyes that Alex had never seen on anyone else.





	anyone who tells you they were born good is lying

**Author's Note:**

> I was gonna go to a coffee shop and write today, but I haven't showered in three days so my ass can't go ANYWHERE. RIP me. This can be read both as historical RPF or Hamilton fic - it draws on actual history more than it does the Hamilton canon, however. Also, I know that the context in which John got injured at Germantown was different from this and Alex definitely wasn't there, but hhhh it's fic and I'm trying to romanticise the fact that John Laurens was badass, passionate, and fierce as fuck. Ngl I don't know why I wrote John as more wordy and poetic than Alex when it came to dialogue, but w/e. I hope the ending makes sense??? I hope any of this makes sense???? Title is from Empty From The Start by Noah Gundersen. (sources on Henry: [1](https://www.varsitytutors.com/earlyamerica/early-america-review/volume-1/slavery-liberty-american-revolution), [2](http://www.friendsoffortlaurens.org/Henry_Laurens_/henry_laurens_.html))

When Alexander first met John, there was a fire in his eyes that Alex had never seen on anyone else. It flickered when he smiled, and sparked when they made small talk; when their thoughts didn't matter, and their words were just there to fill the space. It was still there, though - no matter how small, even when it rose and fell, flickered close to going out. It was constant and fierce, and Alex knew he felt it every time he was in close proximity to John. They didn't even have to be talking directly with one another - if John was in the room, Alex felt the heat crawl up the back of his neck.

The first time Alex saw it flare up was when he was dragging John away from the house at Germantown, his sash pulled off and pressed into the open wound on John's shoulder. John's head laid on his shoulder, and Alex held him up with an arm wrapped around his waist, hand gripping onto his wrist. Blood was pouring out of the wound and John's face was pale, eyelids shut gently and mouth half-open, involuntarily. Alex would've thought he was dead if it wasn't for the pulse pounding through where he held onto John's wrist, so heavy and hard that he felt it, too. They were about a mile from the nurse's tent when John's eyes fell open.

"I'll die for it, you know," John said hoarsely, "I have to- have to be a martyr. I'll do it, Hamilton, I will." Alex looked down at him, and there was that fire in his eyes, brighter than Alex had ever seen it. It was burning so bright, so big - Alex swore he could hear it crackle.

"No," Alex replied, voice cracking, "you won't."

"Someone needs to, Alexander. I will," John managed to get out before his eyes rolled shut again, his weight going dead. Alex shuddered at John's use of his first name, and pulled him in tighter to his side, picking up the pace as they neared the health station. John couldn't die, no matter how much he wanted to, because there was no one else who had that same fire in their eyes, that same passion and fierce dedication to what was right. They couldn't win the war, couldn't get anywhere without it.

When they got to the nurse's tent, he laid John out on the table, fumbling through his words at light-speed as he tried to explain what had happened to the young nurse. Thankfully, she understood what he meant sufficiently to treat John, and sent Alex away, back to battle.

Alex didn't see it flare up again until two years later, when they were staying in an inn in the city. They were back from the bar for the night. There was no battle going on, nothing. Washington told them it was a waiting game, that they needed to be on their toes for whenever the British would strike again. The two of them were both a little buzzed, not too drunk, though, and Alex sat on the bed of their room while John paced.

"I simply don't understand it," John seethed, "he claims to hate slavery, says he understands that the Africans are humans, too, but he doesn't _do_ anything about it. He supports the battalion I want to create, but he won't even free his own damn slaves!" Alex watched as he slammed his feet to the wooden floor with every step, thudding through the room. It was the angriest he had ever seen John - red-faced, hands tugging through his own hair.

"Laurens," Alex said softly. John looked up at him for the first time since they'd entered the room. The exhaustion and exasperation read clear on John's face, and his eyes _burned_ through it all.

"Don't worry over your father," Alex said, getting up and walking towards where John had stopped. He placed his hands on John's shoulders. "We'll build the regiment ourselves, alright?" John nodded at this, the anger melting away from his face, regressing to a look of betrayal and hurt. The fire had doused slightly, smaller and weaker, and at this, Alex cautiously pulled John towards him. John looked Alex in the eyes, fleetingly, before letting himself be pulled into the embrace, laying his head against Alex's shoulder.

The last time he ever saw it flare was right before John left for South Carolina. Alex knew John's orders, knew John wouldn't follow them, just like always. Still, it was worrisome, like it always was.

"Just. Remember to be wary of the enemy, and cautious, yes?" Alex said, watching John button his coat.

"Hamilton, I don't believe there's ever been a time you didn't say that before I left for a battle," John chuckled, finishing the buttons and tugging at his gloves to make sure they're securely on.

"I worry, Laurens," Alex said, managing a weak smile, "I always do."

"Of course you do," John smirked. After he finished fussing with his uniform, he brought his head back up to face Alex. His eyes were blazing, complemented by the grin John wore. In the moment, it felt like the whole room had started to combust, the small space between them the centre of the heat.

"Know this, Alexander: if I die in this battle, it'll be righteous," John said, firmly. "There must be martyrs if we want this to be a nation whose existence isn't solely to spite Britain. If I must, I will die for what matters." Alex nodded, weakly. He wanted so desperately to agree, to believe that John dying could be good for any reason, but he couldn't. He believed in this nation with his whole being - but he believed in John more. John was already a martyr by existing, already set alight everything in his world just to see if it could handle burning with him, or if it would disintegrate to ashes. He'd already given so much to their nation, giving his life wouldn't transform his cause in the slightest. It wasn't necessary. They could let others die, Alex could let himself die - anyone besides John, whose passion and fury had carried them through battle after battle. Who would lead by example if John wasn't there?

As it went, John died in a volley at the Combahee River. Alex had never been as cold as he was when he visited John's grave, where the tombstone iced over and snow coated his entire body, his fingers turning purple. His whole world felt like it'd descended into an ice cap, frozen in time and space, unable to keep moving without John's heat to melt it all away.

And then, Philip said his first words. Opened his eyes, looked straight up at Alex from where he lie in Eliza's arms, mumbled out some garbled nonsense that meant nothing. But he looked Alex straight in the eyes, and the cold thawed away.

Philip grinned at him, and Alex flinched as he felt the world start to combust once again.

The fire was back.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me at [sadxghost on tumblr](http://sadxghost.tumblr.com)!!


End file.
